


Breathe With Me.

by CalmBlackSuit



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tseng is Not Okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmBlackSuit/pseuds/CalmBlackSuit
Summary: Sometimes it's the ghosts that make it hard on us, to find what we need. Tseng certainly struggles with this, but at what cost?
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Breathe With Me.

**Author's Note:**

> First time ever writing anything like this, so I do apologise if it's a bit long, rambly and irritating. ^^;

Breathing. Such a simple thing really, air goes in, fills the lungs and carbon dioxide exits in thin mist. Oxygen then cycles through the blood like creature on a mission to bring news to every cell in the body. Ever moving, ever racing in peaceful rhythm. But, what happens when that sweet silence becomes a turbulent sea of short gasps, fleeting moments and rapid-fire nerve twitches? Fear.

It had been one of those nights that were for sure. The paperwork piled high thanks to another minor mishap on his desk, a low hum of fluorescent and neon lighting drifting hazily in and out of earshot and the smell of yet another cup of black coffee rifling through tired nostrils.

Tseng usually preferred this kind of silence in the office. It let his mind focus; wander in turn to each report that required attention- to incidents and intel not large enough for priority and yet not small enough to be dismissed by his gaze. Yes, the late hours allowed him respite. A chance to take things slow, fixate; breathe.

When the president had retired and that of Elena, one of his underlings, had taken up post to keep watch, the Director of the Turk organization could at least let his eye steer ever momentarily from the platinum blonde, to that of the last dregs of the day's work before dark hues found slumber and the roulette game began.

"Activity in Junon?" He mumbled, his brow quirking as he raised his mug to savor the bitter notes that ran across his tongue and drifted lazily down his throat. "Haven't seen that in a while, not to this level, anyway. If this intel is correct, might be wort-" Breath hitched, catching between his ribs at a dull throb and forcing down that mug only to run hand over his abdomen. It had in truth, been some time since the northern crater incident. His wounds healed, his mind healed and yet? Every now and then it came back like an ungodly reminder; the dull ghost of a pain.

"Boss isn't gonna like you workin so late, y'know that, Tseng." Came a quiet, snarky voice from the doorway. Of course it had to be Reno. If there were anyone who'd likely be skulking around the headquarters at this time of night, his right hand would be one of them- a night owl like himself. As such, Tseng didn't even have to raise his head when the other came strolling in, fresh cup of coffee in one hand and some magazine in the other. "Yes, well, Elena is with him tonight. I'm certain that the President would much prefer having the most up to date information when he wakes rather than me take a few hours of extra sleep liberties." Replied the raven, sighing as he pulled aside his hand and returned it to his desk.

"Tch, you act like he just sees you as some sort of machine." Reno added, bright blue eyes creasing as he drew closer. Tseng was a hardback novel when he wanted to be. A tome wrapped in chain that only a selected few ever got a chance to glimpse even a page of, but when you knew the man? Sometimes those pages rattled. "It's hurting again, ain't it?"

There hadn't been a moment's pause between those sharp eyes scanning the room and an even sharper tongue cutting through the veil. Did it still hurt? Of course. The phantom pain of Sephiroth's presence, of Masamune passing through his body, always managed to sting fresh as the day it had happened when it chased itself from hiding. 

"What makes you think that, Reno?" He asked, flicking his eyes toward a report sat atop another stack of papers and almost lazily plucking it up to scan through. Sure enough, the lack of urgency in his attention to the matter was favourable, too. Merely another report that contained whispers of a small camp which held little substance aside a few beasts and one or two materia. Not exactly as interesting as he'd hoped it to be. Still, Tseng let his eye move back to the screen, typing in his clearance to access the deeper parts of the files while he compared the report to an earlier one on the same situation.

"You've been mainlining that coffee for hours since the boss left for the night. Shit smells downright vile after the fourth cup, and you're not exactly the type who opens windows this high up." Mused the redhead, taking a sip of his own murky brew before tossing the magazine down. "You only do that shit when it's hurting and you don't want the boss on your back, or somethin’s got you pretty pissed off. So, which is it?"

Tseng blinked in silent contemplation. Had he truly become such a staple that his movements were easy to read? Doubtful, but then again Reno held his position for a reason. He was a sewer rat among the wolves. A man able to scurry here and there, pick up what those above could not or should not touch be it for status or ulterior motives. Perfectly acceptable given the redhead preferred to cut loose on his assignments with lesser regard for casualties- if the mission afforded him that luxury. “I simply was hoping to put the dregs of a few investigations back in order, Reno. It’s harder to reconstruct a statue out of rubble when the ants are crawling all over it. Best to start all over.” 

Leaning back for a moment while he reached for another report to compare, the director’s eye briefly met those sharp blues with a serious note. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for much in terms of banter, not when it came to his personal life. Not now. That being said, he couldn’t expect Reno of all people to be too hush hush. He’d not forgotten the plethora of headaches caused by him spouting off over various bodies, mostly to irritate Rude, of course.

“Tch, if you say so, Boss.” Oh, now he was pushing it for sure. Ensuring to grate on tired nerves as the raven returned to his workload for a time. “That sounded positively painful for you to say, Reno. Yet, I’d assume the reason you are here so late is because you’re itching to get back out into the field and not dealing with statues? How is Rude’s hand, by the way? He hasn’t submitted the paperwork on your last operation, but I saw with my own eyes that he did not come out unscathed.” A swift flip of the conversation, crude yet so very effective in how Reno’s gaze flickered from probative, to defensive and barbed. “Infirmary said he’ll be up and running again by next week. Few damages to the bone, but nothing our people can’t fix. He ain’t gonna like muscle rehab, though. Shit’ll annoy him for sure. ”

Nodding, Tseng allowed himself to set his paperwork back down and savor another few mouthfuls of coffee in the still, troubled air. Nobody who wore the suit of a Turk, liked that process. The urge to jump to your feet, the thrill of slow burn investigations or even the intense heat of what you ‘should’ be doing always had a way to gnaw at the mind when in recovery. He knew this himself, too. Rehab was far worse because while it was necessary to promote correct healing, sitting still was not something the brain allowed. No, for those like themselves, keeping busy, training and working to protect the President, the Company and their secrets were part of your life blood. Your oath. 

Even now, he could recall how Rufus had scolded them for being too ‘lax’ with their own healing when it came to keeping things running while he was poorly. The fire in such usually charming, mischievous eyes was startling, but Tseng? He’d gotten the brunt of that inferno shortly after being discharged and put on ‘bed rest’. The director had barely been released from the hospital twenty four hours, and he had set himself up at his desk to work as if simply suffering a minor head cold. A thought that stirred the unease in his chest and once more roused that pain in his abdomen. No, there was no way he could return to the President’s chambers while this pain still troubled him. It would ignite the fire, the concern; the fear in the blonde’s blue hues. “Understandable. Our specialists are the best for a reason. However that won’t excuse him from submitting his paperwork. Which reminds me, as you are here, you can get a jump on filling out your own report. If you wish to get back out in the field that is.”

A low grumble resonated, followed swiftly by that of a cuss in Wutaian and that unmistakable snarking twitch of impatience. Just as Reno had struck a mild nerve, so too had Tseng in his promptness for rules. “My report? At this time of the night, it’ll be pretty hazy.” Spoke the redhead in an almost bored drawl. “Just the preliminaries, basic facts. The more intimate and less important details can wait until morning, but we both know that the sooner it’s done, the sooner that expression will leave you.” He was right, too. The sourness and agitation, the microscopic nature in how Reno shifted, tensed and relaxed, was telling. The man wanted the image staining his mind to vanish just as much as he himself wanted the ghost to stop haunting his dreams. 

“Heh, alright, you got me. I’ll start on my report, have it fleshed out tomorrow and then swing by Rude. Means the office will be pretty sparse for a while but-” He sighed, taking a sip of his drink and glancing sidelong for a moment toward the vacant bullpen and his partner’s empty desk before returning them to the other. “Somethin tells me that won’t bother you that much, Tseng.” “Not if it means our department is running smoothly, Reno.”

Sure enough, at that the redhead turned and slunk over to his desk, plonking down in a far more casual manner as he set his mug on the table next to his computer. The silence that followed? The low clack-clack and occasional grunts and sighs, was soothing. It allowed Tseng’s mind to return to the task at hand, another idle brow quirk announcing victory as gaze darted back to the ever lengthening scrawl on screen. Reno had let it drop at least, for now. Reno had. The director? Try as he might to filter out the whitenoise and chaos so to continue his comparison, Tseng couldn’t fully block out the memories. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before the stillness was broken again by the ping of a phone.

“Hmm?” Turning toward his own, he frowned when the screen flickered to life only to appear blank. “S’mine, Rude was askin was there any update on that Junon situation. The guy ain’t able to switch off- like fuckin most of us here, it seems.” Ah, of course. It wasn’t hard to imagine wanting answers or updates, but at this time of night he had hoped at least Rude was calming down.

“Ah, here was me thinking you’d ordered delivery again.” Chuckling momentarily and then nodding briefly in response, Tseng allowed his features to crease as he listened before brow quirked yet again, the fleeting joy trickling back to start seriousness. “He’s on medical recovery time, all information is classified until he’s back on the job, so, he should focus on recovery. You know that.” He mused, pausing to look up again and this time, offering the smallest of comforting nods. “But, nothing seems out of the ordinary for now, so that should allow both of you to relax.” Half attempting to be playful for the redhead, the raven looked toward Reno as he pushed himself back from his desk and began to stare at the ceiling. 

“You’d think, huh, but my head’s full of shit and I can’t really suck down takeout. Suppose maybe you’re right, Tseng.” His voice sounded almost oddly pained as he spoke, the long hours and miazma of the day starting to show despite how much Reno wanted to play it off.

“Go home, Reno.” Tseng responded, reaching for a lukewarm mug to drain the last of its contents and then settle back to the task at hand. “You’ve done enough on the report for the night and I’m sure at least by now, he’ll be glad of your company. Unless of course, you’d prefer I make it an order and write you up for insubordination.” Now he was both playing the role of concern and serious. Reno’s entire frame had degraded in just those few hours sat behind his desk. The twitches, racing mind, the slouch in his figure, all of it was clear enough to the Director- even the cocky drawl that had dwindled. But, his words had the desired effect. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” A low grunt of an answer, followed through with stiffened steps and an awkward stretch before a cursory glance sidelong betrayed the time. “Shit, it’s nearly two am. Honestly, I didn't think it was that late. No wonder my head’s playing hookie.” He frowned, turning toward the raven as he rubbed at his neck and held his gaze. “Take it easy tonight, Tseng. You’ve got that look again and y’know I used to hate it.”

At that, the raven’s lip twitched. “Good night, Reno. Tell Rude to ease off the throttle for a few more days, he’ll be back soon enough.” 

Silence.

Once more the low hum of fluorescent lights became his keeper once Reno had left. It was eerie, sombre now. The warmth and the intention of work had faded to leave behind that hollow, vacant sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. As such, Tseng’s hand fell again to his abdomen. Shake it off, Tseng. A simple thought, too. Shake it off, put everything back in that vault and continue onward. That was his job. Yet, even still he found himself rising, turning to the window to look out over the sleeping world beyond. 

Out there, things seemed peaceful and calm despite dangers that loomed just beyond the veil of the night. Secrets slumbered, innocent beings took refuge in dreams and the monsters? They chased those left awake. He knew that, but boy did the sight bay his lids to grow heavy. Perhaps Reno was right for once. The reports were finished, his list checked off so there was nowhere left to hide within the office. He had to clock out. 

Shutting down his station and stretching while paperwork was filed away securely, Tseng sighed heavily to himself and shook his head. Two forty five am. Not the latest he’d stayed. But late enough he hoped, to let him breathe. 

In some ways he was right, too. The Director could barely remember the drive back to the President’s abode. It was a whirlwind within a blur that tired eyes fought every step of the way, yet sure enough? The moment he set foot inside, that weight lifted and a newer, stronger one took hold. It made him sigh, his shoulders slouching for just a fraction before light footsteps reached his ears. 

“Good to see you back, Sir.” Elena spoke softly as she rounded the corner and leaned on the wall, a gentle smile playing on her lips that almost reached her eyes. She was worried. “I’ll assume Reno sent word that I was still at the office?” He replied, slipping off his shoes and stowing them next to a pair that had already been shined to perfection for the following day. “Of course. He thought it best since you seemed so deep into your work.” 

Naturally the redhead would sound off, though all he could do was nod and faintly shake his head before giving a gentle smile in return. “How is he?” “The President is fine, he went to bed not long after arriving home. He’s woken a few times, but nothing above normal.” She responded, stifling a small yawn while they walked into one of the larger side rooms. There, Tseng paused with furrowed brow; his eye falling on a small altar to the Leviathan tucked into one of the alcoves- the incense burning as if only freshly lit. “He’s gotten up two or three times to ensure it is still burning, just in case.” Elena mused, smiling a little at the fleeting glimpse of confusion that greeted her. 

“Ah, well I’m grateful.” He replied, a faint smile showing as Elena placed a hand on his shoulder for just a moment. A small weight; a comfort. “Good night, sir.” “Sleep well, Elena.” Tseng mumbled, waiting just a little for those footsteps to die away before moving to settle before the altar and disappear into prayer. He may be the Director of the Turks, but Tseng? He hadn’t truly let go of his own faith. Despite the horror and the utter hell that came with both his position and his experiences, the moments of respite that came with prayer and meditation often calmed him when no other; not even Rufus, could. Why? The Leviathan stood for so many things, the ebb and flow of life and death, the ups and downs; the protection against the evils that wished nothing more than destruction and to him, he wished the protection fell upon Rufus, Elena and the rest of his team rather than himself. They had lost members before, true. Yet that toll still stung; and with the stirrings and unrest at hand- any protection was a blessing.

Finally letting his shoulders fall once the stillness of the air returned, Tseng at last moved down the corridor and paused ever so casually at the doorway to the blonde’s bedchamber. Even without entering, the small rustle of body weight brought back that smile. Weary, tired; content. A smile that came only when the day had ended and he glimpsed the President fast asleep, untroubled by the day’s events, his pain or injuries like that of a child. How precious that sight was, how rare. For Rufus to be that at ease, to feel safe enough to drift off without worry? It was worth more than any materia, even that of the black, to the Director. 

From where he stood, it was easy to get lost in that simple moment and forget what had occurred. Rufus was calm, sure. But he seemed so much stronger, more resilient. The bandages covering his thin frame seemed almost to accent him rather than detract from his handsome nature, and for just that fraction of time it was like looking at a blast from the past. So yes, it was so very easy to drift away and forget the world when that sight befell his gaze. A sense of reluctance to move lest the bubble pop and it slips through his fingers, wavering at the back of his mind. Still, Tseng managed to tear his eyes away and make his way to change and slip between the sheets at his side. Gun stowed beneath his pillow, soft brown hues fixating once more on those slack, calm and contented features that sadly came to life in sleepy flurry.

He rarely spoke about it, Tseng. But those first flickers of recognition in deep blue eyes always cut through him. Heart rate spiking, smile widening and for but a moment, hand raising to brush blonde tresses away. “You’re back fairly late, I’d almost started to think you forgot where you live.” Rufus mused, stifling a small yawn and attempting to sit up. “Not at all, I just had a few extra things that needed my attention in the office. Though, I was enjoying admiring you. You seemed relaxed.” He replied, a smirk playing on the corner of his lip. “Yes, well. I was having some good dreams. Must be investing in some more of that silk, it was quite lovely to wear.”

Chuckling at that, the raven couldn’t help but stifle his own yawn and rub at his eyes. “As to be expected, you do look wonderful in silk.” He wasn’t going to dwell on exactly why he was back so late, and thankfully enough, the tiredness written into the core of his features was more than enough to stop cautious questions- though he knew the look that surfaced in Rufus far too well. “You’ve a meeting in the morning at nine, Rufus.” He reminded, half to ease his own consciousness into remembering he actually needed to sleep himself. “As sharp as ever, heh.” 

The kiss that followed was chaste, but tender. Silence filling the air while lids shut to block out everything; even the ghosts, for a few fleeting moments. “That’s why you acknowledged my promotion, isn’t it?” He teased, settling and raising one arm just enough for the blonde to curl up against his chest. For someone as in shape as he was, Rufus was as light as a feather when it came to resting on him. Though he knew from the various other ‘partners’ that the President had entertained both for political and statutory reasons, that Rufus rarely ever felt this way with others. He strained to be the one in charge, in control of absolutely everything. But with him? All of that fell away. Safe, secure; at ease with the world. “One of them, but do you truly want to get into that now? We both know it is certainly a long list, and neither one of us has the energy.” A tease for a tease, he supposed. Fingers threading back and forth through those golden locks until the stillness returned and even, slow breathing filled the air. 

He couldn’t recall his eyes closing, or what time it was when it happened; but yet again the ghosts returned. Terror rearing ugly head just as it always did when faced with the one who would ultimately bring about the end of a life. For no matter how many times that dream scarred itself into living memory, it struck a nerve that he swore never to expose. Not even to the blonde slumbering at his side.

At first, it was a soothing sight, the dream. The low crunch of loose stone echoing within the twisting walls, his head turning left to right in turn while searching for something, someone unseen within the Ancient Temple. He had always wondered about that place, about what lay within and if the so-called spectres that lingered, truly knew just how much time had passed; or what had become of the planet in their long stead. It felt both like coming home and then being in a space reserved for the Leviathan, being able to walk within the realm of the first people, those blessed with the purest connection to the planet itself. Yet that tranquil sense of ease gave way in turn to confusion. Dark eyes scanning over murals from long ago while the low chatter of Elena’s voice echoed softly in his ear before disappearing. 

The next moment? Those light footsteps so very telling, had become the marching boots of death. 

Tseng hadn’t even a moment to think, either. Instinct taking hold, reactions primed, he had been locked once more in battle, frantically using everything he knew, every trick, trade and scrap of training against the silver haired SOLDIER simply to survive. Only, it wasn’t the former First Class. No, the creature that advanced on him was far, far worse. He was out manned, outgunned and outmatched on every front so much so that no being could call an even field. But he fought on, attempting to hold back the beast in First’s clothing as if some haunting call from the grave. 

Sure enough, too. Before it was Tseng could even draw breath, those dark hues had grown wide, features soiled and fingers twitching at the raw agony that ripped through and paralysed him. His abdomen had been punctured and every inch screamed that he was going to die. But what truly made him panic, was the murky greenish-black that filtered along the blade, chasing the ruby stream and spreading upward hungrily from both sides; until at last it reached cloth and disappeared below. Eating away at him inch by inch relentlessly until released from the blade and left to crawl hopelessly to the entrance what felt an age away. Why? Why had his blood changed, what had the monster infected him with aside his own guilt and foolishness? What was going on? 

“Tseng.” 

He was shaking, scrambling tooth and nail on that long pathway back through the temple. Dying. 

He had failed his mission, fought in vain and soon would be damned to whatever fate. Only, the beast was right on his heels. Mocking him. Terrifying the raven so much so that mind skewed from defending himself and escaping, to the fleeting image of blonde tresses appearing in a flurry of white that grew slick with crimson. 

Rufus. 

How had he gotten there? He wasn’t supposed to be there, he was meant to be elsewhere, safe. How could he save the President in this condition? It was numbing, those footsteps dancing around him with deliberate movements to ensure his eyes had no place else to look. He was bleeding. When had he been cut? Where had the attack come from? When? Had his eyes dimmed so much already that even such a basic attack had gone unnoticed? Wait. The President’s shotgun wasn’t working, either, and before he knew it, Rufus’s features were maring with the filth of Geostigma. Wiping away the handsome man he had been and replacing it with frail, spindly; vulnerable ones so very close to death’s door. ‘No. No, not this way. He cannot fall here. Not here. Not him.’ 

“Tseng. Wake up.” 

Eyes snapped open fingers gripping tightly at his firearm as he darted awake to both instinctively shield Rufus and assess the threat. Where was he? Where was Jenova and Sephiroth? What was going on? All those questions and more began filtering through the haze as breath caught uneasily in his chest and that haunting pain ripped through him once again. “M-Mr. President?” Tseng rasped, his fingers loosening their grip on his gun as the room brightened around them.

“That’s right, now take it easy, Tseng. Everything’s fine. Just relax.” Came the soft coo of the blonde’s voice. Rufus’s features were wrinkled. His lip turned down into the deepest frown, eyes glimmering with concern, confusion and fear. It didn’t take him long to place a hand atop the raven’s, slowly easing the weapon away and lacing fingers together in a soothing manner, free hand brushing aside slickened strands and wiping the thick band of sweat from his brow. 

Heart racing, eyes wide, Tseng attempted to clear his throat and brush things off as nothing wrong while he scrambled for air. Jenova had been so close, he’d seen those beautiful eyes dull, the colour drain; felt the very life of the man trickling away before he could even claw himself over to stem the bleeding. Yet before he could even feign his condition as fine, the blonde had crowded him. “I’m not hurt, Tseng. It was just a nightmare, so just breathe, okay? Focus on me, on my breathing. Nothing else.” 

Forehead to forehead, he nodded best he could, listening to the slow, even breathing of the President and trying to match it in turn. Steadily, his shoulders once more fell, dark eyes shutting, fingers curling around the blonde’s frail hand. He was fine, everything was just as it had been when he’d last shut his eyes. 

Comfort. 

Breath to breath, Tseng rapidly found himself transported back to their summer excursion in Wutai. The fresh scent of rain, the greenery; the quiet. Back then it had just been them. No worries of work in the office, no missions; merely a small touch of respite and Rufus? He had shone as if blessed by the Leviathan. 

“That’s it, breathe with me. Just as you’ve always told me.” 

Listening, Tseng smiled faintly after a time, reaching a free hand up to stroke his cheek and then knot his fingers into Rufus’s hair very gently; just as he liked. The President was real, safe; unharmed. “Glad to hear you actually listen to me, Rufus.” He croaked, dry throat struggling on those words with a faint smile as he dropped formality. “Well, I have to, don’t I? You’re the one in charge of protecting me. It would be nonsensical to ignore such a valid suggestion, both from my right hand, and a loved one.” 

The blonde’s voice was soft, tender; playful and charming. A welcome reprieve from the hell that mere moments ago had felt like an eternity. “True..Regardless, it’s much appreciated, though I have disturbed your sleep and I apologise for that.” “Hush now, as if a few minutes of sleep is going to do much. I’ve had plenty, it’s you I’m concerned about.” He probed, reaching a free hand up to plant itself on darkened skin. “You should’ve told me you’ve been having nightmares. Otherwise, how can I ensure you’re alright? It’s only fair.” 

Sighing, but reluctant to tear himself away, Tseng stole another kiss from Rufus without a second thought. He lingered this time, savoring the contact and pulling back just enough to answer. “It’s nothing, truly. Merely stress.” “Tseng. I know you better than that. If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be having night terrors, is it something to do with the pain?”

Both eyes snapped open at that, his head withdrawing, brow furrowing and mouth creasing into a frown. “How did-” “How did I know? Truly you didn’t expect to hide that from me, Tseng? I’m the President for a reason.” Rufus spoke calmly, his features softening even as he allowed the raven drift back from himself.

“Reno..” Tseng mumbled, rubbing his eyes before at last a hand dipped to his abdomen where, as much as he’d attempted to conceal it; the faint black-ish grey-green tinged at the scar like a beacon. 

“Reno.” Rufus sighed, fixing his hair and adjusting his position in bed to better sit up. “He worries about you, even after everything the pair of you have been through. Not that I can blame him. So when he sent word earlier that you seemed- off, I knew it must be something more than just a headache or stress. Though, it might be time we take a few days to ourselves, what do you say?”

“I think that would be best, Sir. Reno can handle things for a while.”


End file.
